


Eye

by quicksparrows



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Sexting, dirty pictures ha ha ha ha haaaa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8357878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksparrows/pseuds/quicksparrows
Summary: Jack has a new communicator.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have a one-hour lunch break at this contract job I'm doing and it's juuuuust long enough to write a lot of stupid things, hence the uptick in short ficlets.

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Jack is midway through a casual conversation when a notification for a message pops up on his new communicator. He's been told he'll get used to its seamless integration with natural motions, but he's not quite there yet; for now, the pane of glass floating over his eye is a distraction at best. He's used to being able to glance at his wrist and twiddle with controls on a touch screen, but now everything is eyeball movements; the notification opens just by _looking_ at it.

It opens a message from Gabe.

It opens a message from Gabe with an attachment.

It opens a message from Gabe with an attachment of an image of his fist wrapped around his own cock, _mid-pump_ , and from an awkward selfie angle to boot.

Jack mentally slips to the comm button, but it doesn't exist anymore –– no more push and release, _push and release_ , just a sensor that reads his eye movement to _reply._

"Reyes?" he says, experimentally.

"Did you like that?" Gabe replies, voice floating into Jack's ear in a low, rumbling purr. If Jack weren't ready to shit his pants, he'd be excited about this general tone, this filthy voice plugged right into his brain. Gabe carries on, sly: "I'll send you more in a moment."

"Reyes, I have a new communicator," Jack says, clipped. "The kind that goes over my eye."

"I know. I thought it'd be a little more _personal_."

"It's glass," Jack says, pointedly. "You can see through the back of it."

There's a pause. Jack glances at his comrades, who cover the range of deadpan to snickering to flushed-red embarrassment.

"How many people just saw my dick floating over your eye?"

"Three," Jack says.

"Fuck."


End file.
